Pretty Bird
by kellyLEIGH
Summary: She was a bird. Perched on the edge of her old life and the new hell that she was living. Eventual Daryl/OC.
1. Chapter 1

I had been there for hours. Crouched. On the high tree branch. Alone.

Hours isn't the right word. Days. I had been in that tree for approximately four days. She had no intentions of coming down anytime soon. I saw the biters everywhere, yet none of them had managed to sniff me out in the tree. I was lucky. Ha. Lucky. What a fucking great word for the end of the world.

I felt like a fucking bird.

In all reality, I hated trees. I know, they give us oxygen and all of that bullshit, but they were no fun to climb. Yet, here I was, living in a damn tree.

I had stayed in trees mainly since the end of the world. When was that? Weeks, months ago? I didn't know. My cell phone had died a long time ago. I hadn't kept track of the days.

Since narrowly escaping Atlanta when shit hit the fan, I had found myself in trees more and more. They were easy to hide in, they provided shelter, they gave me oxygen. Plus, I could jump from tree to tree without ever having to step foot on the ground unless I needed supplies. I had supplies. Lots of them. But they were buried underground beneath this particular tree. With the biters everywhere and random people coming to and fro, it was almost impossible to get to them.

I reached into my backpack and grabbed the last water bottle I had, taking a small sip. I was almost out. I had to make it down soon. This heat was starting to get to me. But it was too dangerous in the day, and too dangerous at night.

At night, the biters roamed. One foot on the ground and I would be a late night snack. Those stupid bastards were relentless. They didn't know right from wrong, they just knew they were hungry. I was a small, but good enough meal to them.

During the day, people roamed around. I assumed I was close to a campsite. It was the same people over and over. I had seen Lesbian Lady, or so I liked to call the strange, short haired woman, take a piss on the same bush every day. She had no idea that Blonde Bitch, a blonde woman who always had a sassy look on her face, had been using the exact same bush.

I also saw Sheriff Dickhead quite a bit. He always wore the same uniform, like he owned no other articles of clothing, and was always barking out orders to people. Like, dude. The world ended. Who died and made you dictator? He had his henchman—Officer Kiss-Ass. Another sheriff guy, who actually wore different clothing from time to time, who followed him around.

There was also Yellow Man, Pregnant Lady, Black Guy, Old Fart, Yellow Man's Shag, Taylor Swift and the Hick. I'd seen them all quite frequently over the last four days. It was amazing to me how none of them knew I was up here, watching their every move. Even when Yellow Man and his Shag got frisky.

It was dangerous to be seen. I knew that. I might have been young, but I wasn't stupid. Truth be told, in no way was I prepared for this. Actually, the only good thing I knew was the 15 years of gymnastics that I took, making it possible for me to jump from tree to tree and not fall to an ironic, non-zombie death.

The people seemed friendly enough. Except for Officer Dickhead and his henchman. They seemed like assholes. And the Hick. He was definitely an asshole.

Yet, here I was, hiding out like the good little fucking bird that I now was. If only I could fly...


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Line breaks are usually the switching of POV'S. I may change that later, but for now, it is switching from the OC's and Daryl's POV. I'm sorry it's so short, but I'm still figuring out the plot line and exactly where I want this character to go. So after another short chapter or two, they'll get better, promise!

* * *

5 days. 5 fucking days in this goddamn tree. I ran out of water yesterday. I had one last can of peaches, which I hated, for the record. I needed out. And I needed out fast.

I would wait until right before sunrise. Surely to hell no one would be up. The biters would be too busy munching on their evening snack to pay much attention. I would probably get turned into biter munchies, but I refused to die in a fucking tree.

With a plan figured out and nothing else to do, I glanced around my surroundings. No one was around, as far as I could tell. I listened towards the direction I assumed the camp was, and received nothing in return. Good.

Slowly, I opened my backpack back up and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. My daddy never did like me smoking. He was dead now, so I didn't have to worry about that too much. I pulled my lighter out as well, checking my surroundings once again. I didn't want to fuck myself over by a fucking nicotine break and have them smelling my cig or seeing the smoke. After feeling fairly confident, I lit the white, skinny beauty and took a large hit. At least in a world gone to shit, you could still feel at ease once in a while.

I continued to smoke as I looked in my bag once more. Pulling out the small compact mirror, I frowned at my reflection. Yes, I was vain. I wanted to see the old me—fair-skinned, smiling, flawless skin and no worries in the world. Now, a scared, lonely girl looked back at me. No longer did I have the fair skin. It was dark, tanned by the long hours in this fucking Georgia heat. No longer was it flawless. I had several cuts, scars, and bruises from this hell that was now my life. Sighing, I put the mirror back, throwing the cigarette to the ground.

"You can start a damned forest fire if you keep that shit up."

I nearly jumped out of my skin, scrambling backwards on my branch, daring to glance down at who had spoken. It was the Hick.

* * *

This damn girl was dumb as hell. I ain't blind. I'd seen her in that tree four days ago, watching. She just sat there, like a damn bird, not making a sound or movement. No one else had seen her yet, or the camp would be up their assholes trying to figure out a 'solution'.

Stupid damn camp.

I figured since she wasn't hurtin no one, might as well leave her be. But she had smokes, and it had been a good while since I'd had a good smoke.

I looked up at the girl, who was now staring intently down at me, back against the tree. I couldn't blame her—I'dda been scared shitless too. Hidin, and then somebody decides to bust ya out. Damn her and her hiding place though, I needed a smoke.

"Care to share? Cigarette for my silence." I wasn't in the mood for stupid games today. I didn't give a fuck abou' this girl or what her plans were. Aint no need in me bustin her out for no good reason.

A white tube then fell down from the tree about 5 feet away from me. I picked it up, pulling Merle's old lighter out of my pocket. Lighting it up, I took a drawl and leaned against the tree.

"Ya know, ain't gonna be long until the other idiots figure out yur here. Might wanna get to hightainlin, if ya know what's good for ya."

With that, I made my way back to my tent, not too far from the edge of the woods, but far enough from the damn Camp Cheerios.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: As I'm sure you've noticed, I have changed the plot. I do not intend to follow season 3's story line. I have my own ideas. Therefore, Shane is still alive, but the farm did go down. Andrea managed to escape with them as well. So far, that's the only thing changed from season 2. Enjoy lovely readers!

* * *

Damn him. Now, I didn't have a choice but to move. Tonight. Problem was, how?

My supplies were all underground. All I had to do was just _think_ about going down and digging them up and I would be biter bait. At least with the people, they might spare me. Might. But then again, they might make me live in a hell worse than having my neck gnawed on by the undead.

I didn't have much time to figure it all out. It was still dark, several hours since the Hick had left. He had known my location. For how long? I was so sure that I was being careful. I stayed out of sight every time I heard anyone coming. I slept farther up in the tree, hidden by the leaves. There was no fucking way he had seen me. But yet, not too long ago, he had bluntly asked me for a smoke. Smokes were valuable these days. Luckily, I had managed to swipe a carton of menthols from a convenient store shortly before being stuck in this fucking bark infested hell. I couldn't afford to keep wasting smokes or I would go insane. I had to leave.

A small part of me wanted to believe that he would stay true to his word, which is why I dropped him a square. Then again, I didn't know him. He was the average country hick, with better-than-average hair. He may be waiting until just the right moment to tell his group and have them come pull me from this tree. But, wouldn't they have come by now?

I had no idea. I didn't know these people or what they were capable of. Sheriff Dickhead was confusing. I had seen him with the kid and Pregnant Lady a few times, and he seemed fairly friendly sometimes. Even loving. Then he would bark orders at everyone and freak out after every fucking thing. He could be a bad guy, disguised as a good guy. Or the other way around.

Officer Kiss-Ass was a different story. He, too, was seen with the Kid quite a bit. Cute kid, really. Reminded me a lot of...I shook my head. I couldn't go there. Not today.

Kiss-Ass had The Eyes. The, I-Seem-Nice-But-I-Will-Probably-Kill-You-In-Your-Sleep eyes. He disagreed with Dickhead a lot, but they remained together half of the time. I didn't get it. Then again, I didn't really get people anymore. Or what was left of them.

If I had to bet, I'd say it would be one of those two that put a bullet in my head if Hick didn't live up to his word.

Lesbian Lady and Blonde Bitch weren't that interesting, but they didn't seem deadly. Blonde Bitch just seemed uptight all the damn time, but I couldn't lame her. I mean, fucking dead people were walking around trying to eat your face. It's ok to be a little uptight. Lesbian Lady never carried any type of protection, but Blonde Bitch always had a gun. She was a bit trigger-happy, but not a bad shot from what I had seen. I don't think she would have the balls to kill an innocent girl in a tree though.

Yellow Man was kind of interesting. He was the quickest of the group, in all ways. Even his Shag thought so. Neither of them looked particular dangerous either.

The Kid wouldn't be a threat. He couldn't be more than like twelve. Pregnant Lady wouldn't be either. She just complained all the time and peed a lot. Old Fart and Taylor Swift, whom I hear singing ALL THE DAMN TIME, were definitely not hunters. Old Fart carried a shotgun, but I hadn't seen him use it. She carried nothing but her annoying voice and cheery damn attitude.

The Hick. He was potentially the biggest threat. I had never seen him without a crossbow. He didn't talk to people much, from what I had seen, but was obviously important. I had seen him bring back a squirrel or bird almost every day, making the growls from my stomach even louder.

I didn't know what to do. Risk Camp Crazy, or try my luck with Mr. Hungry down there?


	4. Chapter 4

What evil lurks: Thank you for being my first reviewer! :) I don't know why they aren't showing. They've all been sent to my email, so I've seen them, don't worry! I'm really glad you're liking the story so far!

* * *

Damn it all to hell..

My plan was solid. Wait until before sunrise, when all of the biters are enjoying their peace or whatever the hell they do when they aren't trying to eat my brains, then jump down, dig up my supplies, and get the hell out of here.

Naturally, the world had other plans. Or, more specifically, Lesbian Lady had other plans. She was taking her nightly piss on her shared bush, and she looked around her. Doesn't seem like a big deal, but the dumb bitch almost never checks her surroundings before dropping her pants. She picked tonight to do it.

Now here I was, a few screams and gunshots later, my hands and feet tied together, a blindfold over my eyes.

But hey, at least I was on the ground for the first time in a week.

Once she started screaming, I had tried to hide deeper in the tree so no one else would see me, but the damn woman decided to bring a gun with her on this fucking night as well. I couldn't exactly move with a revolver pointed at my face.

Shortly after, I had several guns pointed at me, along with a crossbow held by the Hick. As they were tying me up, I swear I heard him mutter, "Stupid damn girl."

I may be hearing things, or he may be a bigger dick than I originally thought.

I could hear them talking around me in hushed whispers, completely oblivious that I could hear every word. A woman's voice kept repeating that I was dangerous or a threat. A older man's voice, the Old Fart I'm assuming, was disagreeing with her. "Everyone deserves a chance." He said.

I don't want a fucking chance. I want let free and I'd be on my merry way. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"If y'all would just fucking let me go, I won't be back."

They all stared at me, the air now silent. Sheriff Dickhead stepped forward, kneeling beside me where I was tied and on the ground. I knew it was him because of his walk. Damn man even had a stuck up, I'm better than you walk. Is that weird? It's not weird. Nothing is weird anymore.

"Look. I want to believe you, but I have people here to protect. A group. We can't risk it. Who are you?"

"I know you have a group. I know your damn campsite. I've been stuck in that fucking tree for a week, hiding from y'all. This was MY campsite first asshole. Now just let me go. Does it really look like I'm much of a damn threat to you?"

In the back, I could hear a woman moan, complaining about how I knew where they were. Well, no shit. They made so much noise, freaking Bigfoot would find them. Dickhead then proceeded to take off my blindfold, sensing that it wouldn't make a difference now. I finally looked at my surroundings. There was a campfire not too far in front of me, surrounded by tents. Directly behind Dickhead was the Hick, Old Fart, Pregnant Lady, Yellow Man, and Yellow Man's Shag. Officer Kiss Ass was standing next to the Kid, a few feet behind the group here.

Dickhead looked at Kiss Ass, shared some kind of fucking telecommunication, then turned back to me.

"Are you alone?"

"Nope. Here with all my lovely friends. Can't you see them? Say hi guys!" I rolled my eyes, sighing at the seemingly mentally incapable man in front of me. Did it look like I had anyone? I traveled alone. Have since the world ended.

"I'm gonna untie you, but just know that we can shoot you dead in a second and not think twice about it." With that, he pulled a knife from his pocket and cut the ties on my feet, before moving up to the ones on my hands. I flexed my wrists out, inspecting the damage. Those would leave a mark. I stood slowly, watching the crossbow follow my form all the way up before resting back against the shoulder of the damn Hick who carried it.

"Now, how did you manage to hide up there, watching us, without any of us seeing you?"

My eyes cut to the Hick, who jerked his head at me, signaling me to lie. Fuck it. He hadn't sold me out, so I didn't have the right to sell him out.

"I hide in trees for a living. It's what I've been doing since this started. It's the whole fucking point that no one sees me, or I would have been roadkill a long time ago. Can I leave now?"

Sheriff Dickhead shook his head, nodding back towards the group of odd survivors behind him.

"We're safe here. We're protected. If you're willing to pitch in, you could be safe, too."


	5. Chapter 5

"What?"

"I'm inviting you to join us. It's a lot of us. We protect each other. We all earn our keep. It's safe. We haven't had a death in months. You're just a kid. I can't, in good conscience, just let you go back out there on your own. I've got kids too." He glanced back at the Kid and Pregnant Lady.

"I'm not a fucking kid. I'm grown enough to take care of myself this far aren't I?"

I was fighting back, but I had to admit that living in a camp didn't seem like such a bad idea. Even if it was with these freaks. I didn't know them. I didn't trust them.

"No," I finally decided. "I want to leave. Now."

Sheriff Dickhead sighed, then stood up, waving his hand out towards the woods.

"Go on. Have fun at dark with the biters." He stalked off, leaving Pregnant Woman and Old Fart with their mouths almost to the knees. Thank God. Without a second glance, I stalked off back into the woods. I hopped back into the tree I was previously in and grabbed my backpack before making my way over to my supplies. Luckily, no biters were around. I dug up the hole I had placed next to the tree almost a week ago, revealing another backpack and a gun bag. I had swiped the gun bag from a car on the highway months ago. Truth be told, I had never shot a gun. Even before the world turned to shit. But, I figured a bag full of guns and ammo might come in handy on day. The bag was green camouflage, with the word ARMY on the side. I figured it was some good shit.

The backpack was almost three times the size of my current one. It was an old hiking backpack. Inside was at least a month's worth of canned food, and more than a dozen water bottles. I tried to stay prepared, but it was getting harder and harder.

Struggling to pick up all three bags at once, I almost didn't notice the dead son of a bitch behind me, his arms reached out like he wanted to hug me. How sweet. Even the dead needed love, too. I giggled before pulling myself up into the tree right before he reached me. Damn thing. Now I'd be stuck here another damn night.

At least it was a different tree.

* * *

I woke up in blinding pain. I couldn't feel the left side of my body.

I was on the ground. What the fuck?

I could hear someone shouting, but it seemed far in the distance.

Red. I was covered in blood. That was the last thing I remembered.

* * *

"She's awake! Dad!"

I hear footsteps running away from me. It was bright. I wasn't in a tree.

Holy shit, I wasn't in a tree. I jumped backwards and knocked into something hard, before a pain shot up through my side. Looking down, I saw a bandage wrapped completely around my middle, stained in blood. Before I could piece together what had happened, Sheriff Dickhead had approached me. I was in this damned campsite again.

"Good morning. I bet you're wondering why you're here."

"No shit."

He chuckled, lowering himself to the ground. I was on top of a blanket that was spread out on the ground. Behind me was a tree that I was currently leaned up against. No one else seemed to be around.

"We didn't know you were back up in the trees. We assumed you had left. Daryl was hunting. He mistaked you for a bird. You had an arrow go completely through your left side." He indicated to my bandage. I got fucking shot?!

"We brought you back here and bandaged you up. Luckily, it didn't hit anything serious. Hershel was able to cut the arrow out. How are you feeling?"

I looked down at my side again. Damn bastard shot me. Who the hell was Daryl?

"Fucking peachy. I'm leaving." I attempted to stand, only before falling back down on my ass. This fucking hurt like hell. I didn't remember any of it. How can someone not remember being shot with an arrow? Then again, how can the dead be walking? Crazier things have happened. But I had to get out of this crazy camp.

"Relax. We aren't going to hurt you. You can leave as soon as you heal up. I've brought you some food and water. Try to eat. I promise you'll be free to go in a few days. I'm Rick." Sheriff Dickhead, I mean Rick, held his hand out to me. Instead, I snatched the water bottle at hi feet and took a large gulp. I couldn't remember the last time I had drank something. Days. But I was not eating the lump of whatever he had in that bowl.

Realizing that I had no intentions of making amends, Rick stood and walked off before entering another tent across the campsite. I was positioned away from all of the tents. Good choice I guess. They didn't know me. I could have murdered them all in their sleep, if, ya know, there hadn't been a fucking arrow in me.

Arrow. Daryl. He must have been the Hick. I saw him with a cross bow yesterday. See if he gets another smoke anytime soon.

Smoke! Ah! I glanced around again before my eyes fell on my backpack, propped up against a log next to the campfire. Carefully, I lifted myself off of the ground, using the tree as support. Taking ridiculously small steps, I made my way over to my things. Jesus. My left side was on fire. I lowered myself onto the log, bringing my backpack over to me. Reaching into the pocket of my shorts, I pulled a lighter out, along with my trusty nicotine friend. Lighting it, I glanced around the camp once more.

It must have been early. No one else was around. The sun was barely out, leaving a dark cast against the sky. I spotted the Kid climbing out of the tent that Rick ha just entered. He looked at me carefully before giving me a small wave. I waved back and he started walking towards me. He sat a few feet away from me, a Sheriff hat on his head. Cute.

"I'm Carl." I nodded at him, taking a hit again. Was it bad to smoke around kids? I couldn't remember. I hadn't been around people in months. Just me and my biter friends.

"Daryl thought he had killed you. He carried you all the way back here, yelling and cussing. He's a pretty scary guy." I couldn't help but snort, earning an eat shit look from the Kid. I mean Carl.

"I guess it's a good thing he didn't kill me. Do I really look that bird like?" I propped my wrists up against my body, flapping my arms like wings, making Carl giggle. I couldn't help but grin. I missed kids. I missed people. I missed anything that didn't try to eat my face or have bark and leaves on it.

"He did get a bird though. We ate it last night. Dad saved you some." I thought back to the bowl Rick had handed me. Yuck. I was not about to eat the damn thing that I took an arrow for. If anything, it was that bird's fault that I was back here.

Truth be told, I didn't mind it. It was nice to be around people again. Plus, they had saved my life. But, they had been the ones to put my life in jeopardy.

"What's your name?"

I looked up again. This kid still had his innocence. He had bright eyes, hidden underneath hair that desperately needed a cut. But, he still had a smile on his face. That was rare. I couldn't remember the last time I had truly smiled for no reason.

"If I tell you, can you keep it a secret? I wanna be a mystery around here." He nodded eagerly, moving over to the seat directly beside me.

"I'm Ariana. But, it's just between you and me. I feel like people have to earn names now, don't you?"

He thought for a moment, before slowly nodding. "I guess. No one really trusts anyone anymore. Last person Dad brought it got beat up and killed. But he took you in. I guess it's because you're a girl so you aren't much of a threat."

I shoved him off the log.


	6. Chapter 6

Although I feel like it's extremely obvious, although I wish it were true, I do not own the Walking Dead.

* * *

"You did WHAT?! Rick, how can you let a stranger in the camp again? I know she's hurt, but we have a baby to think about!" I could hear Pregnant Lady trying to talk in a hushed manner to Offi—I mean Rick. I was told that they were married and I'm gonna assume it's his kid. Who knows in this world? Maybe a zombie got her pregnant. Hehe.

"I can hear you! I'm shot, not deaf!" I called out to her from my position on the blanket, making her quickly glance over at me with a look of pure hatred and stalk off in another direction. Rick pinched the end of his nose before turning to give me a wave, the stalking off after Pregnant Lady.

It had only been a few hours since I had been here. Carl talked to me for a while, explaining everything and everyone. He started off with his dad, Rick, who had apparently been in a coma when the world went to shit, then found his wife and son. The Henchman was apparently Shane, who was Rick's partner before the dead started making meals out of the living. Blonde Bitch was Andrea, who had lost a sister and was now kind of a buzz-kill, according to the child. Lesbian Lady wasn't a lesbian apparently, and had lost her child and husband. He had only nice things to say about her and her dead daughter. Yellow Man was Glenn, who was apparently Korean. Maggie was his bed buddy, and she was with her father and sister. Slowly, I took in all of the information Carl was pouring on me. There was no way I could keep all of it straight. I forgot half of it as soon as Carl scampered off to be with his family, honestly. Oh well.

After our little chat, I made my way back over to my blanket. By that time, everyone was waking up and getting out of their tents. Glenn barely looked at me before rushing over to a tent across from his, where Maggie climbed out, her dad right behind her. I couldn't help but chuckle. The apocalypse happens and he still doesn't trust those two? Then again, Lori went and got herself knocked up. I couldn't blame him. After speaking briefly with Old Fart, Glenn and his lady made their way to the small fire, where others were already gathering around.

Among the few others gathered around the fire, I spotted the Hick leaning against a tree a few feet away. Surprisingly, when I glanced to him, he was already staring straight at me. Our eyes locked for a quick moment before I averted my gaze, putting my attention on my hands in front of me. He had blue eyes. That didn't fit. He was older, I'd probably give him late 30s, with shaggy hair and a rough face. His body was well defined, and he had a confident air to him. He looked every bit the part of a hard-ass biker/hunter/hill-billy. Then, he had sparkling blue eyes. Like, what?

It didn't matter. Quickly after I looked down, I decided to meet his gaze again. This time, I made sure to put every bit of anger I had into my eyes the best I could. This bastard shot me. It was one thing to ask me for a smoke, then promise not to sell me out. At least he'd kept his word. Then, the non-lesbian Lesbian Lady had to open her fat mouth and get me taken. THEN, to add to my perfect week I seemed to be having, this mother fucker shot me. How could you accidentally shoot a _living person_?! The man seemed to understand my gaze and grunted before making his way over to where Rick now stood beside Carl, a plate of food in his hands. They exchanged a few words, both glancing at me, (I wonder what ever they could be talking about?), before the Hick started to approach me. He held out a plate of food he had accepted from Lesbian Lady.

"Shoot me, then offer to feed your kill? How kind of you."

"Don't care if ya eat it or not. Doin as I was told." He not-so-gently put the plate of offered food on the ground next to me before taking a seat across from me, on my blanket. He pulled his cross-bow off of his back and began to fiddle with it as I watched on with curiosity.

"Whatta you starin at? Why don't cha take a fuckin picture?" He grumbled, not even looking up from his weapon. I admit it, I was staring. But, he was on my blanket, in my defense. I didn't need his pity company. He didn't have to worry about me being lonely. I was fine on my own. Had been since this shit started.

Deciding not to respond, I leaned back against the tree behind me. Things used to be so different. I never had to worry about being stuck in trees, or meeting strangers in the woods. I definitely never had to worry about someone shooting me with a fucking arrow. I snorted when I realized that my previous worries mainly consisted of writing essays and worrying about where Cole was. My heart clenched at the the thought of him, but I quickly pushed it aside when I caught the hunter's eye.

"What's so funny?" He asked in a gruff voice, his cross bow still in his hands.

"Nothing. Why are you over here? Keeping me company because you put an arrow through my side?"

He snorted this time, going back to his bow. "I ain't worried about apologizin, if that's what yer wantin. They decided it was best to keep watch on ya. I'm the lucky first contestant."

"Eat. I'm guessin it's been a few days since ya had something other than cigarettes." I almost smiled at this before realizing that I was sitting in front of my almost-killer. Right. I picked up the plate of food, unsure of what the meat was. It didn't look like bird, so it wasn't the same crap that they had tried to make me eat earlier. After hesitantly taking the first bite, my stomach growled loudly at the thought of more food, so I quickly shoveled down the rest of the contents on my plate. The Hick—Daryl, I mean,-watched me with an amused look behind his eyes. Without waiting for my food to be completely chewed up, I spoke up.

"What's your problem? Aint ever seen a lady eat before?"

He grunted before replying, "I've seen one, but you definitely ain't no lady."

* * *

Okay, I'm going to start off with apologizing profusely about the long wait. My computer pretty much blew up and it took a while to get up and going again. I've also had quite a bit going on and haven't found much time. This chapter is another short one, but I have finally figured out where I want this story heading. I know that Daryl might seem a little OC in this chapter, but the idea struck me and I thought it was too cute to overlook.

Again, I'm so sorry for the late update! I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter and I'll have another one up soon!

And thank you to those who reviewed or sent me messages regarding this story! I'm glad ya'll are enjoying it, even though it's off to a slow start!


	7. Chapter 7

"I never caught your name." I glanced up to see Rick crouched beside me. I still sat in my previous position on the blanket, although I had moved all of my belongings beside me. After a thorough check, I was confident that these strangers hadn't stolen anything. Not that it mattered. I was basically their prisoner.

Daryl had left shortly after he arrived. His discomfort on being there was obvious, so I wasn't sure why he had bothered in the first place. After his demeaning crack about my gender and manners, it had stayed silent between the two of us until Rick decided to come "relieve" him of his guard duties.

I was a small girl, with an arrow hole through her side. Exactly how dangerous was I at the moment? Maybe the Kid was right.

"I never said it." I replied swiftly, pulling a water bottle out of my own bag. Although the food was a surprising change from my usual canned stuff, I refused to be a burden on these people. I didn't know anything about them and they had almost killed me. But they had a kid, and another one on the way. I wasn't about to use up all of their resources.

"Ya wanna tell me what your name is then?" The man had a pretty sexy Southern drawl, I must admit. It was different than the hunter's, but just as endearing. One was a rough, uneducated kind of speech, while the other was sophisticated. Both were sexy as hell of course

Hey. Don't judge me. It had been several months since I had even set eyes on a man.

"Not exactly." I sat the bottle on the ground beside me before meeting the man's eyes. Now his fit. They were dark, and matched his ordinary looks. These fit.

"I'm trying to help you. We can not, in good conscious, let you keep being on your own. I made a vow to honor a man by always doing the right thing. This is the right thing. Let us help you. We can help. But that's going to take some trust. We can start by your name."

"No."

The man ran an agitated hand through his hair before shaking his head at me. Sighing, he stood and retreated back to his tent, obviously done harassing me for the day. I took this opportunity to fully look at my surroundings. Everyone seemed to get along here. Lesbo and Taylor Swift were hanging up laundry, laughing about something. Carl was standing with Shane, while Preggo watched on. She seemed to be on edge when Crazy Eyes was around. Wonder what that's about?

I wasn't alone very long. Guess it was Blondie's turn. She came from inside a tent that was placed next to the Old Man's and strutted purposely towards me. Without a word, she held up her gun to me before sitting it a few feet away from us. I didn't respond to her peace offering, but watched carefully as she sat across from me. My side was still hurting like a bitch, so I hadn't been able to stand or walk anymore. It was now about midday, several hours since I had first woken up and had that delightful little chat with the Kid. I glanced towards my backpack, which Rick had moved back next to his tent for "safekeeping".

"Anything you need from it?" I was surprised to hear Blondie speaking to me, so I didn't answer for a moment. She was actually kind of pretty—she had wavy hair and high cheekbones. Traits my mother always said would get you far in life. I almost snorted out loud. Bet they didn't get her too far when everyone around her became cannibals.

"Actually yes. Do you smoke?" She shook her head before I continued on anyways. "Well. I have a pack in that backpack that I would kill-" I flinched at my awful choice of words- "to have. Mind getting one for me? I'll try not to murder everyone while you're gone." She smirked before standing up and retrieving the backpack, shifting through it until she found the pack of menthols. Pulling two out, she handed one to me.

"Thought you didn't smoke?" I pulled my lighter out of the pocket of my khaki shorts and lit my own before offering it to her. She took it before answering.

"There's a first time for everything." 

* * *

I sure as hell hope they didn't expect me to sleep here. On a blanket. In the middle of the camp. With no weapon. I might as well be zombie bait. Everyone was gathered around the small fire again, all with plates in their hands. Right as my stomach started to growl at the smell drifting towards my current position, I saw Andrea (yes, I learned her name) walking towards me with a plate in her hand. Sitting it down next to me, she sat in her previous spot again. She waited until I had picked up the plate and began wolfing it down before she spoke.

"Do you normally wear that? It can't do much to help you avoid walkers. Or even men for that matter."

I took the opportunity to glance down at my attire. Ok, so my dressing habits had changed since shit hit the fan. It was fucking hot here. No point in trying to get a heat stroke while running for my life. Therefore, I usually opted for the coolest clothing I could manage to loot from abandoned homes. Currently, and for the last week or so, I was dawning a black crop tank top and khaki shorts that I was pretty sure I had underwear longer than. But who the hell was she to question it?

"It's hot." Was my simple answer as I continued to eat the mysterious meat and vegetables on my plate. Something the Hunter had gotten, no doubt.

She chuckled at this, leaning back on her elbows and stretching her legs out. "Ya know, I was one of the few that voted to keep you here." When she received only a grunt in response, she continued. "Dale, one of ours, died not long ago. He tried to save the last person we found. But none of us would listen. He died the night that we made the decision to kill the guy. He said we were broken." She spoke about the death with no emotion, which struck me as odd. It's funny how the world changes people.

"What happened to him?" I surprised myself with the question, not truly caring about what happened. But, I felt like it was only right to ask. She didn't seem fazed with my questioning, though.

"Walker got him. We had to shoot him. He died in my arms." She let out a harsh laugh. "Second person since this shit has started to die in my arms. The world is a fucked up place now. No one is denying that."

I silently nodded in agreement, setting my now empty plate on the ground next to me.

"Rick wants to know your name. But I understand you wanting to keep it. Hell, it's about the only thing anyone has these days. So I'm not here to pester you. Just had to let you know that he wants to know. Something about trust. Sounds kind of ridiculous, doesn't it?" She laughed at this, glancing towards the still eating group. She must have accepted that I didn't plan to talk much, because she continued on without any of my encouragement.

"No one here is scared of you. So you don't have to worry about being killed. Carl even said he liked you, even though you pushed him." I couldn't help but give a small smile about that, remembering the short chat with the Kid earlier. "We just want to live peacefully," she continued, "Or well, as peacefully as we can. We lost a lot of people not long ago. We're tired of losing people."

She looked at me then, straight into my eyes, unnerving me a bit. I didn't even think before words jumbled out of my mouth.

"Ariana."

Andrea just stared at me for a moment before nodding. Nothing else needed to be said for the rest of her watch. 

* * *

Night had already fallen and mostly everyone had gone to their tents before Rick approached me. Behind him was Glenn and Daryl, both looking equally irritated.

I couldn't wait to hear what was about to happen!

"You need somewhere to sleep and heal correctly." Rick started, motioning to my still bandaged side. "We don't have a lot of room, unfortunately. And we couldn't find a tent in your bags-"

"You went through my shit?!"

"Shut the hell up! You were stalkin us and ya wanna go screamin about us invadin your property?!" Daryl responded to my outburst, causing me to only stare at him for a few moments.

"You fuckin shot me, asshole!"

"Hey now! I need everyone to be calm, ok? It was an accident. He didn't mean to shoot you. He sat with you the entire time you were getting patched up, up until you woke up. He is sorry. Right Daryl?"

Daryl grunted in response to Rick's babbling, averting his eyes. Sat with me? Hell, I didn't remember any of it. He felt guilty because he shot a living person? Wonder why that would happen?

Rick, unaffected by Daryl's avoidance, turned back to me. "Like I was saying. You don't have a tent. We can't leave you in the open. Unfortunately, all the girls are already bunking with each other, and don't have room for another. So, to make you more comfortable, you can decide. Glenn has extra room, and so does Daryl."

I snorted, sitting up, ignoring the sharp pain that my sudden action was causing my side.

"I'd rather get eaten by zombies."

Glenn let out a loud laugh at this, earning a confused look from the hunter and cop man. Once he realized that absolutely no one besides himself found it funny, his laughter got stronger, ending when he was doubled over and clutching his sides. Rick stayed silent, only looking at him quizzically.

I guess everyone in this group was about a brain cell too short.

"Zombies?" He looked from me, to Rick, to Daryl before throwing his hands in the air. "Seriously? No one has thought of calling them that yet? We've got geeks, lamebrains, walkers-" He trailed off, chuckling again. "But no one has thought of using _zombies_?"

Rick gave a small smile, obviously amused by the younger boys humor before turning back to me.

"Those are your options. Take your pick."

I looked between the three of them silently. No matter what choice I made, I was screwed. In the end, I decided to go with the lesser of two evils.

"Well, I'm definitely not sharing a tent with the bastard that shot me." 

* * *

**Again, I'm so sorry for the rushed chapters I have been giving you! I was just so excited to get Ariana into the group, I got carried away and gave ya'll utter crap for reading. Eventually, I'll go back and mend them. Promise!**

**I really appreciate everyone who has contacted me about this story! I love to hear feedback and hear ya'lls opinions! If there is anything you would like to see, let me know and I'll see if I can work with it! Although I do have a plan for this, it never hurts to have more input and maybe change for the better! **


	8. Chapter 8

That night was, well, awkward at best. Glenn and Rick had helped me up off the ground and over to his tent, while the other man stalked off towards another area away from camp. Glenn had already set out a sleeping bag; I guess even he knew the most obvious choice.

As I laid my head down on the makeshift pillow that was fashioned out of someones jacket—Glenn's I'm assuming—I couldn't help but wonder what the Farmer's Daughter thought of this. I definitely did not want to be in the middle of a lover's row right then. Maybe bunking with the hunter wouldn't have been the worst choice after all.

In the end, it didn't really matter. With a quick good night, Glenn plopped down on his own bag and was asleep within minutes.

In all honesty, this group didn't seem so bad. Sure, they were a little loopy. And very, very strange. But it was obvious that they were close. And there were a lot of them. Therefore, they had to be doing something right.

Careful of the hole in my side, I rolled over onto my back, listening to Glenn's steady breathing. Maybe, this place was safe. Then again, Andrea had said that they had lost people. That two had died in her arms. This only led me to think about the very thing I had been trying so hard to forget.

Cole. He died in my arms, too. Poor little baby. Cole had barely been four when this shit started. He was in his bed, sick as a dog. He had had a fever for about a week before my apartment complex fell to the undead. I hadn't thought anything of it. Cole was always catching fevers and getting sick. All ya had to do was sneeze near him and he caught something. I did what I normally did—fed him antibiotics and kept him in bed.

But, I didn't have a choice. He was sick. My home wasn't safe anymore. His breathing was ragged, almost barely there. As soon as I felt his chest stop moving, and couldn't feel a pulse, I hightailed it out of there. Leaving the poor baby in the bed. Even though I knew he was dead, I still locked the door behind me. If he was going to die, he was going to die right. No damn zombie was going to use him as a meal.

Cole was never bitten or scratched. We hadn't even been around the damn things. He just fell sick to the flu, or something, and the hospitals were already being evacuated. I didn't have a choice.

Suddenly wide awake, I leaned up quickly, earning a sharp pain through my side. I glanced down at my wound for only the second time since I had been shot. The bandage it was wrapped in was already seeping blood and hurt something awful. I guess I had better get someone from Camp Cheerios to re-wrap it in the morning.

God, what a twisted turn of events. Never in my life would I have thought that I would be in a large group of people again. There were cops, a child, a hillbilly, an Asian, and a black man. It was probably one of the strangest groups I had ever seen. Yet, they all seemed so comfortable around each other. I leaned forward, placing my head on top of my knees. How could they all be so trusting? When I lost Cole, I never attempted to find anyone else. I had seen groups, sure, but never thought about joining them. These days, the living were just as ruthless as the dead.

I remembered back a few weeks ago, when I had been perched on a tree not too far away from this current campsite. I was bundling in for the night, when I noticed a young girl and boy underneath me. They only carried bats, so I didn't consider them a threat. They set up a tent underneath the very tree I was in, unable to see me. They seemed happy enough. She was smiling, he was laughing. It was nice, ya know, seeing two people in love in all of this hell. I remember dozing off for a while, before footsteps awoke me. A group of men had found the lovebirds. Unable to cry out without giving away my position, I slid deeper into the branches, shielding my body from the scene below. Three men. Older, gruffer, rougher. They easily overpowered the young couple and died the man to my tree. I could see his bloodied face as he whimpered for the girl. He kept crying out the name Melody. Over and over. The men continued to rape her. Right in front of me and her boyfriend. No mercy. Then with a bullet in both of their heads, they looted their tent and continued on. Although I knew I couldn't do anything, it felt wrong. The living shouldn't be doing that.

"You ok?" Glenn's sudden voice made me jump, causing another wave of pain shoot through my side, making me cry out. He quickly scrambled out of his sleeping bag and was next to me, both hands on my bandage. I shoved them off, sending him a glare.

"Don't fucking touch me. I'm fine."

His look of surprise and hurt caught me off guard. Geez, Ari, he was trying to be nice, my self conscious grumbled to me. Bite me, I silently told her back.

"Sorry. Just trying to help. I could re-bandage that for you, if you want?" His eyes caught me questioning me. I slowly nodded, allowing him to retrieve a First Aid Kit from across the tent. He sat down cross legged next to me, his hands finding their way to my bandage again. His cool hands on my skin sent chills through me, making me extremely uncomfortable. I desperately tried to find something other than his hands to focus on while he worked. I couldn't remember the last time someone had touched me. It was a strange sensation.

"It's healing up pretty nicely, ya know. You should be good to go in a few days. Unless you've decided to stay." He caught my eye again but quickly looked back down to continue his work. He had removed the bandage and I strained my head to inspect the damage. I never expected a freaking gaping hole. It wasn't large, just about the size of a quarter or so. The Kid had told me earlier that Daryl had removed it himself, before tying his own shirt around it and carrying me back to camp. It was dark, bruised, and just down right hideous. I paled at the sight o it and quickly turned my head back around. Glenn, who noticed the action, chuckled lightly.

"I've seen worse, ya know. Daryl once got his own arrow stuck in his side. Then Andrea shot him."

"You're kidding!" I couldn't help but grin at the thought. I knew I sorta liked Andrea for a reason.

"Yup," he continued, pulling out more gauze and tape from the kit next to him," Right in the hand. She was a terrible shot then, though. Only grazed him. This is gonna sting." He pressed the next gauze onto my side, making me hiss in pain, before he continued. "Carl got shot once, too. Right in the chest. But he was shot with a shotgun. All finished."

I leaned down and inspected the Asian's work, mildly impressed at the new, clean bandage around me.

"Thank you." I nodded at him, which I guess he accepted due to the wide grin he gave me.

"I wasn't gonna tell you this before, but that's the first time I've ever done that. But I guess I did a pretty good job." He chuckled, earning a glare from me. But, in retrospect, it was better to have someone who had no idea what they were doing than to have no one at all.

"How old are you?" I stared back at him, confused. "I'm asking because word is that you don't want anyone to know your name. I fixed you up, so I feel like I should know something."

I carefully leaned back onto my sleeping bag, leaving Glenn still sitting next to me. He didn't seem all that bad. He was young too, but had several lines on his face due to constant stress, I'm guessing. Hell, don't we all?

"I'm 20. How old are you?" He leaned back beside me, using his elbows to support him. He situated himself onto the floor, crossing his legs, before answering.

"Twenty four. I think I might be 25 now. I'm not sure. I haven't been able to keep up with the days since Atlanta."

I nodded in reply, even though I knew he wasn't looking at my face. At some point, I don't remember when, he had switched on a small lantern, illuminating the tent.. I saw that he had a small backpack in the corner, still packed up. Nothing else littered the tent, besides the sleeping bags and myself. Guess the guy stayed ready to run. I looked at him again, only to see him now leaned all the way back, his hands folded beneath his head.

"Did you lose anyone?"

"Haven't we all?" I answered, unsure of what he was asking. He met my eyes once again, and for the first time, nothing but worry filled them. He didn't reply to my obvious misunderstanding of the question, but instead held my gaze for several seconds. Shaking his head, he looked back up to stare at the ceiling of the tent once more.

"It's starting to get even colder. Do you have anymore clothes?"

"Nope. I try to dress lightly, to avoid the heat." He laughed at this, earning a questioning glance from me. We were now side by side, he head turned towards me.

"Lightly? I've seen girls in pornos in more clothes than what you have on." I gladly took this opportunity to smack the back of his head, only earning more laughs from the Korean.

"Then you probably watch too much porn, asshole. I haven't been able to get back into the city to get anything else. I'm pretty sure I desperately need a shower and new clothes." He turned his head back again, allowing me to study him. He had dark, thick hair that probably would have looked nice in better circumstances. He had childish features, appearing to be much younger than his previous statement of age. I could see what the other girl saw in him.

"You can borrow some of mine tomorrow. At least a full length shirt. I'll look for you something the next time we go out."

"Thanks."

With nothing else to say, I rolled back over onto my back and closed my eyes. The next morning, I woke up in the same position, with the Korean still laying beside me, a small smile on his lips.

* * *

Once I stopped creepily watching Glenn sleep, I attempted to savor the last few hours of darkness before the unforgiving sunlight came back. Glenn, who apparently was an early riser, gently roused me from my dozing as soon as the first beam of sunlight entered the tent. Taking his offered shirt, I waited until Glenn left the tent respectfully before peeling off the old crop top and tossing it next to his backpack. I'm not gonna lie, it smelled. Something awful. Then again, I had been wearing it for several weeks and sweating my ass off in trees. With my new, plain black t-shirt on, I called Glenn back into the tent. From there, he assisted me out of the tent, supporting most of my weight on my good side.

I felt ridiculous just then. Maggie, whom was standing near the tent, sent a confused glance towards Glenn, who only shrugged in response, before her eyes fell on me. Recognizing the t-shirt I guess she sent me a glare before stalking off towards her father, who was busy helping prepare breakfast.

"What do you think is her problem?" Glenn whispered, helping me stand up completely straight, testing out my side. I successfully stood on my own, only a dull ache in the previous wound.

"Girls get jealous dude. Probably should have thought about that before inviting me for a sleepover. I'm also wearing your clothes." I couldn't help but smile mischievously at him, causing the man to blush about three shades darker than his normal skin tone. Shaking his head, he chuckled before helping me slowly make my way over to the small fire.

Maybe sleep did some good to them, or they actually were warming up to me. Carol, who was not a lesbian, I must repeat, even offered me the first plate of food. I took it eagerly, even mumbling a small thanks to the older woman. The Kid wasted no time in planting himself on one side of me before Glenn sat on the other, obviously being shunned by his new boo. Rick acknowledged me with a nod, and even his hard-ass partner gave a small smile in my direction. Preggo still kept her distance and tried to usher Carl away, but he insisted on sitting next to me to eat his canned fruit and crackers. Daryl, who only showed up long enough to receive a plate, retreat almost immediately back to his tent.

"I have to ask," Hershell spoke up, his gaze directly on me, "why were you in a tree?" I grinned at this, finishing the bite of cracker I had before answering.

"Zombies can't climb. It's one of the safest places." This earned a nod from him, obviously satisfied with my answer.

"How long were you up there?" The Kid asked next, his mouth full of peaches.

"Over a week. I was scared of y'all. Not everyone is good." I answered, suddenly not as hungry as I was moments ago. I guess this is when I'll be bombed with questions and piss everyone off when I give no answers. Let the party begin.

Much to my surprise, and pleasure, no more questions came. They all nodded in silent agreement to my previous statement before returning to their food. It was silent until Andrea spoke up.

"Why don't I show you where you can wash up? I'm sure you're dying for a bath."

I could have kissed that woman. Eagerly, I emptied the remains on my breakfast onto Carl's plate before following Andrea through an area of the forest I had never been to. Following a pre marked trail, by their own group, I suppose, we arrived at a river bank. The smell of fresh water was enough to make my day better. I allowed Andrea to help me lower myself down to the water, before stripping off my clothing. Ignoring the surprised look from Andrea, I dipped myself slowly into the water. Soap. I needed soap.

As if she were reading my mind, Andrea held out a small bar to me, a silly grin on her face. Carefully, minding my bandage, I scrubbed away all of the dirt and grime from my body. I could see the mud and twigs washing out of my hair and flowing into the river. Good grief. I hadn't even realized I was that dirty.

I had been so eager to get into the water, I hadn't even noticed how chilly it was until I felt myself shivering. Once again, Andrea played the role of God by offering me a thick towel. I accepted it from her, wrapping it around me. This is also when I realized that I had stripped down naked in front of a woman I had just met yesterday.

"Sorry. Guess I kinda threw bashfulness out the window." She only smiled back at me, shaking her head and offering my clothes back.

"It's fine. I'm sure you needed it. Glenn's shirt is still there, but I brought some cleaner clothes, too. Most of it's mine, so it'll probably be a little big for you."

I gratefully accepted the clothing, pulling on fresh, clean underwear for the first time in over a week. Inside the bundle, Andrea had also included a black sports bra and a pair of dark jeans. Although pretty much everything I had on was too big, including Glenn's shirt that I decided to rewear, I couldn't have been happier. Andrea, satisfied that I was done dressing, pulled a beautiful white tube out of her pocket next, along with a silver zippo lighter. I gratefully took both from her, lowering myself to the ground to enjoy this moment.

"I grabbed it from your backpack this morning. Figured you'd need one. I hope you don't mind, I grabbed one for myself. They aren't so bad."

"Not at all. I'm glad you did. And thank you for the clothes. And the food. For everything, really. Except the dumb ass redneck who shot me."

She chuckled, taking a seat next to me, slipping off her shoes to slide her feet into the water in front of us. We smoked in silence for a while, until I eventually threw my menthol into the water in front of me. No need to worry about polluting the water anymore, right?


	9. Chapter 9

**I know update at the weirdest times. Sorry! But here y'all go! Two chapters in one night! Hopefully this makes up for the long break I took earlier. I know a lot of you want more action, but I promise we'll get there! I want to develop some relationships with Ari and the others before too much happens. Any thoughts, ideas, let me know! I'd love to hear them! Until then, my lovely readers, enjoy this chapter! xoxo**

**Disclaimer: Although I feel like it's obvious, the Walking Dead is not mine. If it was, I would be sitting in a mansion right now, drinking expensive wine and not sitting in my bedroom, dreaming about Daryl Dixon. So uh, yeah. Not mine. **

* * *

A week had passed since I had been inducted as an official member of Camp Cheerios. In all honesty, I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay. Hershel had cleared me healthy again almost a day ago, but I remained in the camp. I didn't know why. I just hadn't planned out my next move yet.

Sometimes, I actually enjoyed myself at the camp. Glenn was quickly becoming a favorite of mine—almost every night had been a repeat of the first. Glenn had even moved his sleeping back directly beside mine after three times of falling asleep on the ground beside me. We shared small bits of information every night. I found out that he was a pizza boy before this started, which humored me way too much. He seemed too smart to just be delivering pizzas. I also found out that he had three sisters; all of their current whereabouts unknown. He'd only bee dating Maggie for a few months. And, along with that, she still refused to say much to him regarding me, but had given up her small jealousy after he explained himself. In return, I told him a small amount. I felt like I could trust him. Maybe it was because he was Asian.

The second night, I told him about the apartment that I lived in. It was my first one and I was so proud of the little dump. It was a two-bedroom, with a tiny little bathroom and kitchen. The living room was cluttered and messy, but just the thought of returning there warmed my heart. Until I thought about who was currently residing in one of the beds, dead. After that, we fell asleep. The next night, I told him about the guy I was dating before this happened. Mike. We had only been dating a few weeks and he was a good kid. I met him in one of my classes at school my freshman year, and we had become good friends. He didn't make it through the first day. Glenn learned about my jobs, working part time at the college nursery, and working night shifts at the local diner. It was nice having someone to talk to, who didn't ask too much. He never once asked for my name. Andrea, God bless the woman, had kept it a secret, as well as Carl. Sometimes, if Carl and I were ever alone, he would refer to me by my old childhood nickname, Ari. It was cute and I didn't really mind. It almost felt normal.

Rick had stopped pestering me about the name and eventually accepted my silence about it. He spoke to me in passing, making me feel like part of the group. It almost unnerved me. I wasn't part of this group. Not really. They had all been through things together—I was just their stalker that was hiding in a tree.

Carol was nice enough. She always greeted me warmly when I crawled out of Glenn's tent, offering up breakfast or whatever food she had brought. I had relinquished my supplies to them shortly after my arrival, much to their delight. Andrea even hugged me when I showed her my guns I had collected, then insisted on teaching me once I revealed that I had no idea on how to use them. Guns just weren't my thing.

They had long since forgotten about posting guards around me, once they realized that I had no intentions of hurting them. I hadn't spoken to the man who shot me since that first night, and that was perfectly fine with me. I had nothing to say to him. Lori kept her distance as well, only speaking to me if she was looking for Carl. Carl had become attached to me fairly easily, much to my surprise. He asked me about my life before this, and what I had done since the end of the world. He liked hearing my stories about climbing in trees and jumping through them. He even took to calling me Tarzan every once and a while, earning a few chuckles from the rest of the group.

Although some of the group were quickly becoming bearable, I still reveled in the small times that I got alone. I took to sitting by the water, once everyone was done bathing, and thinking about the past. Everything but Cole anyways.

It was here that I got a second opinion on the hunter. I hadn't been there very long, maybe twenty minutes or so, when I heard footsteps behind me. On alert, I slid down, craning my neck to see whatever approached me. I never thought about zombies being out here, which was weird. The group had been safe for almost two weeks now, the closest zombie being spotted by the hunter himself, several miles away while hunting.

"Whatcha hidin' for? I ain't no damn walker." The gruff voice revealed itself to be Daryl, making me sit back up quickly, slightly embarrassed by my actions.

"Could've fooled me. Why do you have to sneak up like that?" He grunted, leaning against a tree not far from my sitting spot.

"I ain't sneakin'. Yer accent is heavy. Where ya from?"

I was a bit taken back by the question. The hunter hadn't said more than a few words to me since his guard duty the first day. Actually, he pretty much avoided me like the plague. Like the zombie plague. Hehe.

"Tennessee. I had just moved when all this happened." I answered truthfully, thinking back to my old home. I had been raised by my parents, who long ago separated and remarried. Tennessee had been my home for a long time, before deciding to attend school in Georgia. I wonder if it was this bad there, as well.

"Where'd ya move to?" I tilted my head at the man, confused at all the questions. Against my better judgment, I answered him.

"Just outside of Atlanta. We're not that far from my town, actually. Maybe a day's walk or so. It was a nice little town, before all of this. Good school."

I received a grunt in response, and decided to turn my attention back to the water in front of me. The sound was soothing, and I had almost been drifting off before he showed up. He remained by the tree, a twig now in his mouth. He was chewing on it slowly, as if contemplating on what to say next.

"You never said sorry, ya know." He snorted, lifting his position off of the tree. He was tall, not like NBA tall or anything, but had a good foot and a half on me. He was muscular and tan, like any good Georgian man should be. He would almost be attractive, if he didn't always have that hard look on his face, like he was pissed 24/7. And the eyes. They still didn't fit.

"Shouldn't have to. You were the one in the tree. Not my fault that I thought you were a bird." I chuckled at this, leaning back to let my wrists support my upper body weight. My feet remained in the water, my army-style boots sitting in the grass next to me. I still wore Glenn's shirt and Andrea's jeans, rolled up to just below the knee. I suddenly wished I had on something more girly, before dismissing the thought. Even if I was halfway attractive, he'd probably still shoot me with an arrow again.

Silence ensued between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He stood, chewing on the twig, and a still sat, my feet dangling in the water. It was several minutes before the hunter decided to break the silence again.

"Bout time ya put on some clothes though. Thought you were a hooker for a while."

"I am most certainly not a hooker!" I couldn't help but lean up at this, my still healing side burning in protest. "What is it with this group?! It doesn't matter how I dress, because it's my damn body! Not everyone is fortunate enough to be able to come across clothes all of the time."

Surprised at my outburst, the man held his hands up in front of him, as if in surrender. "I was only kiddin', no need to get yer panties in a twist. What is it with you women and actin' like yer on the rag all of the damn time?"

"Us women?"

"Yeah, all of ya. Farmer girl is always pissed at the Chinaman, usually about yer dumb ass. Lori is pregnant and all kinds of crazy now, and you don't make any damn sense to me half the time."

Once I chose not to reply, he added as an afterthought, "Maybe you should get yer Asian boyfriend to get ya some more clothes so you can stop stealin' his." I couldn't help but laugh at this, earning a confused look from Daryl. I shook my head, unable to be angry at his choice of words. The man thought I was crazy, and I couldn't exactly blame him. Treehoppers aren't usually sane.

"I'm not a hooker, by the way." He didn't respond, so I continued. "Never saw the attraction of it. A friend of mine, though, back in college. She started stripping to pay her loans off. But, now that you mention it, I guess I have been dressing kind of like her." The thought made me giggle, my mind thinking of Amy. She was young, blonde, and pretty. The last I had spoke to her, she was heading off on a road trip with her sister. I had always told her that she was too smart, too good to be doing what she did. She was older than me by a few years; she was almost finished with school entirely. It bothered be a bit that I didn't even remember what her major had been. Outside of the bar that she worked out, she seemed the perfect girl. She was country raised and innocent, like every good girl should have been. She was easily my best friend. We had even been discussing the idea of her moving in with me and splitting rent 50/50 before she went on her road trip.

"She alive?"

"I don't know. I haven't heard from her since before it all happened. She was visiting her sister."

He let the subject drop, silence taking over again. I was still a bit shocked over how much the hunter was speaking to me. It was common knowledge that he didn't care anything for me. Unlike Lori, who made her discomfort known, he just stayed away ad didn't care what I was doing. It was mutual.

"When is the next time Glenn is going out? It probably wouldn't kill me to have a few long sleeved shirts." I meant it as a joke, but Daryl's face instantly hardened at the sound of Glenn's name.

"Yer the one sleepin' with him, you ask him." Before I could protest to his rude, and very not true comment, he was already stalking back off towards the camp.

Bewildered by the conversation and the abrupt absence, I slowly lifted myself up, replacing my boots and making my way back to the camp. There really wasn't any point in dwelling on it. Daryl Dixon had officially become a mystery to me that I had no intentions of solving. I slipped back into Glenn's tent, surprised to see Glenn sitting up on his sleeping bag with the small lantern on again. His eyes lit up when he saw me, but was quickly replaced by anger.

"Where the hell were you? I was about to come looking! You can't stay out that late and-" I held my hand up to him, not in the mood for his ranting. Sure, it was sweet, but I'm a grown woman. I had survived this long on my own, why did he think I needed help now? I eased myself onto my sleeping bag beside Glenn, who ignored me completely and rolled over onto his side, not facing me.

"I was out by the water again. Daryl came to talk to me." This caught his interest and he turned back around, his previous anger all but forgotten.

"What for? Did he hurt you? I swear to God-"

"No, Dad. He didn't. It was weird. He was just asking about me and making comments about our relationship."

Again, Glenn's face became pink and he shifted uncomfortably. "Relationship? Look, I like you and all-" I laughed, cutting him off.

"We're friends Glenn. I know that. Don't worry."

Obviously relieved, he smiled back at me and reached to turn off the lantern, darkness enveloping us almost immediately. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, already shivering from the sudden shift in temperature. A moment later, I felt another blanket being laid on top of me. Thank God for polite Asians.

"Does he usually hurt girls?" I couldn't resist the question. Like I said, Daryl was a mystery to me.

After a moment, which I assumed was some hard thinking on the Asian's behalf, he replied. "No. Or he never has around us. His brother was something awful though. I wouldn't put it past him. Daryl has turned out to be not so bad, but I still wouldn't get too close to him yet."

"His brother?"

"Yeah. He had a brother back in Atlanta. Merle. Always high on something. He went crazy and Rick handcuffed him to a roof. We went back for him, but he had sawed off his own hand and stole our van. Now that I think about it, Daryl has changed since Merle left. He's more human, if that makes sense."

I listened to the Asian's rambling, more confused than I had previously been. Daryl had been even more distant before? Geez. I suddenly thought of the old expression my mother used to use. People are like onions—you have to peel them away, layer by layer.

"So Merle was a layer on the onion of Daryl." I spoke out loud without realizing it, but didn't think much of it, as I was slowly losing consciousness.

"You're nuts." Was the last comment I heard before drifting off into a full, peaceful slumber about onions and strippers.

We slept soundly through the night, with only crickets and the wind disrupting the otherwise silent night. I awoke before Glenn, which was becoming an everyday thing. After stretching a bit and working out my stiff, but otherwise healing side, I stood and made my way out of the tent. Right in front of the opening, laid several long sleeve shirts, all folded neatly in a pile.


	10. Chapter 10

**What evil lurks: She's doing her height calculation from the ground. She's never been close to him while standing up. Don't worry, she'll realize soon that he's not as tall as she thinks. She'll realize a few other misconceptions as well! She's actually about 5 foot even, in case anyone is wondering. And yes, I couldn't resist adding some jealousy to it! Thank you for the review!**

**Disclaimer: Once again, the Walking Dead is not mine, no matter how much I dream about it.**

* * *

After replacing Glenn's ratty t-shirt with one with sleeves, I crawled out of the tent and into the blinding light outside. Carol waved at me from the fire, where her and Lori were busy making use of the small supplies I had given them. I wasn't too surprised that a month's worth of food to me only lasted a few days here. Lori gave me no acknowledgment, choosing to focus on the task at hand.

Checking to make sure Glenn was still asleep, I zipped the tent back up and moved over to Carol, who immediately handed me a jar of preserved fruit that I had managed to swipe from a cellar back in Atlanta.

"I can't open it," she apologized, holding up her thin arms as to show me her excuse. I smiled slightly at her before working on the lid. Who ever owned this before I definitely wanted this sealed tight, that was for sure.

"Hand it over." I immediately passed the jar to T-Dog, who had approached us silently, still wiping sleep from his eyes. He twisted the lid off easily, handing it back to Carol.

"Our hero." I joked, earning a chuckle from the dark skinned man. Even though I hadn't spoken to him as much as Glenn and Andrea, I had a lot of respect for the man. He didn't hunt like Daryl, or lead like Rick. He did as he was told and watched over everyone, taking frequent watch shifts. He was funny, which was a nice relief from most of the camp's solemn attitudes. He smiled at me in return, taking a seat behind me on the ground and stretching his feet towards the fire.

"Glenn's going to town today. Anyone need anything specific?" Lori and Carol both shook their hands and T-Dog focused his attention on me. Sheepishly, I lowered myself down next to him.

"Cigarettes would be nice. Menthol preferred, if the zombies haven't smoked them all." T-Dog nodded, already anticipating the answer. It wasn't a secret in the camp who were smokers- Andrea had taken a liking to it, and often shared with me by the water. T-Dog had asked me for one every now and again as well. Daryl, however, had not mentioned one since the first night in the tree. It was nice, actually, to realize that this group had more priorities to each other than to bother searching for nicotine.

I, however, would continue to focus on it, and probably be the biggest bitch without it.

With no judgment from the man, we continued to make small talk.

"Are y'all staying here for a while? It seems pretty safe, and I haven't seen a zombie in over a week."

"Nah," T-Dog answered, moving his feet away from the fire and shifting them to be against his chest. "We'll be moving here soon. We have to find somewhere safe for the baby." We both looked up to Lori, who either hadn't heard or was purposely ignoring it.

First, who the hell has a baby in the zombie apocalypse? Surely she didn't make that bad boy in a tent? Even though I wasn't an expert on children, I knew that this was definitely not the environment for one. Damn thing wouldn't make it a day.

Before I could make my snide remark, Glenn appeared out of the tent, his arms stretched above his head. His hair was sticking out in all different directions and his clothes had become severely wrinkled his shirt even falling off his shoulder a bit. No wonder everyone thinks we're sleeping together when he comes out like that, I mused, not fighting the grin that was appearing. Glenn smiled right back, readjusting his shirt and placing himself next to T-Dog. He, too, stuck his feet dangerously close to the small fire, in an act to warm them up.

"So, I need to find menthol cigarettes," Glenn nodded at me and continued, "food, water, soap, and keep an eye out for baby things?" Carol, T-Dog, Lori, and I all nodded almost simultaneously at the Asian, who was mentally preparing his checklist in his head.

"And non menthol. Not everyone wants fuckin' fiberglass in their lungs." A gruff voice sounded behind us, making us all turn in surprise to see Daryl, who once again dawned a sleeveless shirt and ratty jeans. He still had his cross bow slung over his back as he planted himself against the tree, a twig already in his mouth once again. Glenn simply nodded, a bit surprised at the hunter's initiative to speak to him. Without another word, Glenn stood and made his way over to Rick and Shane, who were standing by the edge of the trees.

After an awkward silence following that, I stood, scrambling for an excuse to leave. "I'm gonna uh... go wash up." Daryl, his eyes catching my t-shirt, smirked before following me in the direction of my tent.

"Don't get any ideas," he warned once I had turned around, ready to chastise to him for being a perv. "Shane said he thought he saw a walker a feet yards from the bathing hole. Just goin' cause I'm told to." Hmph. That sounds like a broken record. Once standing next to him, I realized immediately that he was not as tall as he appeared. Also, the constant look on his face did NOT make him unattractive in any way. It's amazing how people's views on things differ once it's light out. A bit taken back by the man's sudden attractiveness to me, I stumbled over the edge of the tent, and landed, yep, you guessed it, flat on my face.

I could hear the man chuckling as I shoved myself to my feet, immediately pissed off. "This was a clean shirt!" I whined immaturely, seriously irritated with my lack of grace. I was a freaking ballerina for several of my younger years, and I now I couldn't even walk? The fuck? Daryl allowed me to duck inside and grab the bar of soap Glenn and I shared, along with a few clean undergarments that Andrea had lent me. As an afterthought, I snatched a pair of black tights I remembered I had shoved in my bag before leaving my apartment. It had always been to hot to wear them, but now, with the weather getting chillier everyday, I finally could return Andrea's jeans. Once I got back to the outside world, Daryl was still standing there, twig still being gnawed at.

He made no comment to my previous act of childishness, or the fact that the clean shirt was, in fact, one of his own that I had picked up from in front of the tent earlier that morning. In a way, I was glad he didn't. Once we were at the water, I turned expectantly to him, which he growled in return.

"I ain't gonna fuckin' peek at ya naughty parts, girl." Even as he said, he turned his back, allowing me to undress and wade into the chilly water. It was much colder than the first time I had bathed here, when I was pumped on excitement to get clean. As quickly as I could, I washed away any dirt and grime I had acquired due to sleeping on the tent floor. I quickly dried off and replaced my clothes, the tights and another, dirt-free long-sleeve from Daryl. I laced my boots back up before turning to the man, who was a few feet away, his face twisted in concentration. I remained frozen in my spot, watching him. Was there a zombie? Someone else? As quickly as it happened, he turned back to me, immediate relief on his face when he realized I was dressed. He turned and started strutting back to the camp, making me scramble to grab my clothes and hurry after him.

* * *

Breakfast passed uneventfully, until Glenn stood and announced that he was leaving soon. Everyone was up then, saying their goodbyes to Glenn. Maggie, obviously still pissed off at the attachment her man was forming with me, quickly pecked his cheek and rejoined her father in their tent. Not wanting Glenn to leave with his mind heavy, I threw my arms around him tightly. It was weird—my closest companion was leaving me alone in camp for the first time to go dodge zombies. I didn't like the feeling in my stomach as he hugged me back, but decided to ignore it for the time being.

As soon as we had made it back to camp, Daryl had retreated back to his tent, ignoring my questions about what he had heard in the woods. Shortly after, he announced to Rick that he was going hunting, and no one had seen him since. Using ever so helpful context clues, I decided that he had heard an animal, and wanted to try and retrieve it. Sounded about right.

Glenn, taking Shane's jeep, left shortly after the food was finished, which left me to helping Carol with the dishes. I knew that I didn't have to help, considering I wasn't actually part of the group, but I felt like I should. Does that make any sense? Against my better judgment, I had no desire to leave here. To leave these people. To leave Glenn and Andrea. So, I helped earn my keep. Carol chatted lightly while we worked, revealing some facts about her past that she assumed I had already knew. I didn't tell her that Carl had already told me most of it, but listened attentively instead. She spoke about her abusive husband, and how her daughter turned. This made me slightly sick at the stomach, thinking back to Cole. I shook it off as soon as Carol asked me, again, about my relationship with Glenn.

"I know you two are just friends," she smiled warmly at me, handing me another plate to dry off. "So I don't understand the way Maggie is acting towards him. No one here but her thinks anything is going on, don't worry."

Except Daryl, my mind screamed, but I remained silent. Why would Daryl be jealous? Why did it mater? Love was the last thing anyone needed during all of this.

Once we were finished cleaning up the dishes, I volunteered to help her and Lori hang the clothes. Lori, who was still obviously very wary of me, stayed as far away from me as she could, leaving me and Carol to chat again. The woman really was sweet; a little damaged, but sweet. I surprised myself thinking about how she had lasted this long. There was no way this woman could have fended for herself. Once again, the gnawing ache in my stomach started churning again. Joining the group really did seem safer than living on my own.

"Where are you from?" Lori's voice made me jump, dropping the current shirt I was trying to hang up. Upon deeper inspection, I realized the shirt didn't have sleeves. Wonder whose that was? I quickly brushed off the dirt as I answered the first attempt the woman had ever made to speak with me.

"Originally, Tennessee. But I was living not far from here, when the outbreak happened." Once satisfied that clumsiness hadn't deemed the shirt unclean, I hung it back up along with the others.

"Did you ever have a group?" The question surprised me. Not because it was asked, due to the fact that Rick had already asked me about a dozen times and always received the same answer. What surprised me was that Lori was asking. I guess she needed to know, in order to keep her baby safe. I could respect that.

"No. I've always been alone."

She seemed satisfied with the answer, returning to her work in front of her. Excusing myself, I went to find Andrea, who was sitting on top of a truck, her gun in hand. I slowly climbed up to her, seating myself beside her on the roof. Wordlessly, I handed her a cigarette from my now dwindling pack, before taking one for myself.

"What were you doing when all of this happened?" I didn't know why I was asking; something to fill the silence, I suppose. I had done more talking than usual today and I couldn't seem to stop.

"Roadtrip," she replied, taking a hit off of her own menthol, causing her cough slightly. "With my sister. We lost her back in Atlanta."

I immediately thought of Amy and wondered where she was at the moment. Hopefully still alive, learning how to earn a living besides taking her clothes off. I chuckled at the thought, earning a confused look from the blonde woman.

"An old friend of mine. She went on a roadtrip before all of this started. I haven't heard from her since the outbreak. She was a stripper." Andrea chuckled, raising her gun to her face to look through the scope once more. Satisfied, she returned to her cigarette.

"We thought you were a stripper at first, too." We both laughed at this, our smoking momentarily forgotten. Hell, everything momentarily forgotten. I liked this about Andrea. She was so aware so watching all of the time, but once she started laughing, it made you almost forget where you were. Like you weren't in the middle of this hell hole.

"Daryl thought so, too." I added as n afterthought, making Andrea erupt into a fit of giggles once again.

We returned back to silence, until T-Dog came up to take over. Helping us both down from the truck, he shoo'd away our attempts to keep him company and planted himself in or previous position. Deciding we weren't any good just standing around, we made our way back to the camp fire. It was well after noon now, so Glenn should have been back. I couldn't see the jeep, but no one seemed worried. Once I had the fire in full view, I could see why. There Glenn stood, a large backpack in his hand, along with a duffel bag beside him.

"Glenn!" I hurried over to him, my side protesting against the light jog. I enveloped him in a quick, bone-crushing hug before standing back to observe him.

"Where's the jeep?" I couldn't help but ask. Sure, he was back, along with supplies, but surely he didn't walk all this way. Maybe that's what took him so long.

"Got swarmed getting out of the town. Had to leave it. But I did manage to swipe some of these." He held out a few packs of menthol cigarettes, making my entire day better. I quickly disposed of them in my tent before returning to the fire, where everyone was shifting through the supplies. A case of water, several boxes of crackers, some cans of fruit, and... what was that? I leaned down closer to the duffel bag, pulling out the metallic box that had caught my eye. Once realization dawned on me, I quickly shoved them farther in the bag, keeping my grin under control. Hershel definitely did not need to see the condoms Glenn had managed to grab.

Everyone, relieved that Glenn had made it back safely, settled down to an easy, light hearted chat amongst each other. I stood by T-Dog, listening to his many hilarious experiences with the zombies, along with Carl, who leaned against me, a smile on his face as well. Lori chose not to comment on it, but remained in deep conversation with Hershel. Everything seemed okay then. It was a nice day, I had had a bath, chores were done, food was eaten, and Glenn had returned with supplies.

It was a nice day. Until Daryl emerged from the trees, breathless and on alert.

"Walkers. Everywhere." He managed to cough out before everyone immediately went into panic mode.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey y'all! Sorry about the long wait. I've been busy getting packed and what not to move into my own apartment. How exciting! **

**I rewrote this chapter 4 times, and I'm still not happy with it. So, I'm sorry about the piece of crap I'm giving you. And, as I have clarified before, I will not be following season 3's storyline. Therefore, a lot of things will be different. Just a warning. **

**Also, I would love to have some more feedback on this story. Let me know what you like, what you dislike, etc.**

* * *

Immediately, everyone was up and grabbing weapons. Carl produced a tiny pistol from the back of his jean, similar to the one his own mother was pulling out of hers. Andrea had her rifle up and ready, while Glenn held a bat in front of him, completely prepared to do some major zombie killing. Unsure of what to do, I stood behind Glenn, waiting for Rick to speak.

"How many and where?" He spoke harshly to the hunter, who was still managing to catch his breath. He had two squirrels hung over his shoulder—our dinner probably.

"Least two dozen or so. Just about a mile out, headin' this way. We ain't got time to chat. We gotta go." The hunter gruffly snapped at Rick, who then turned and began to bark out orders. Shane, the ever so faithful lapdog, began handing out guns to everyone in the camp, including me and Carol. We could only look at each other, neither of us really knowing how to use one.

"We gonna stay and fight?!" Shane yelled at Rick over the panic, who was busy shoving his family's tent in the back of truck.

"If we can't get out, we have to be prepared!"

The answer seemed to satisfy Shane enough, though he still looked thoroughly pissed off while packing up his stuff. I quickly ran over to help Glenn take down our tent and grabbed both of our backpacks from inside. Glenn, now armed with the sleeping bags and the tent, quickly ran over to the truck that Hershel was already in and deposited them in the back. I followed suit, not knowing where else to put it. I watched as Carol packed her things, along with helping Lori. I couldn't keep up with everyone, but was silently hoping they would all be fine.

"Lori! Get in the truck with Carl, and be ready to drive if we can't handle it!" I could hear Rick screaming over the chaos.

"We need all the manpower we can get, Rick!" I heard Lori's reply, which sent an odd wave of pleasure from me. A very pregnant lady wanted to stay and take her chances with the zombies. How brave.

I caught Andrea's eye, who was on guard with her gun up, and quickly jogged over to her.

"You a good shot?" She asked quietly, not taking her eyes from the scope of her gun.

Suddenly, the smell of death was on us. It invaded my nostrils and I almost coughed despite my frequent interaction with the nose splitting smell.

"Guess we'll find out."

Not having enough time to make a get-away, we stayed put. Everyone now had gun and was lined up against the treeline, armed and ready. It was a sight, that was for sure. A very pregnant woman, a child, two cops, a redneck, a Black man, and Asian, a blonde, a lesbian that wasn't a lesbian, an old man, two pretty girls, and a very uncomfortable me, all standing side by side and ready to do some hard-core zombie killing.

Unfortunately, when the herd finally reached us, I froze. I could smell them first—the strong scent of decaying flesh nearly knocking me down. The moans came next, low and grumbling, like a lion ready to pounce on its meal. It was all surreal. I could see their eyes, void of all emotion and feeling. Except hunger. It was the only look left on the faces of the dead.

Even though we were expecting it, it seemed to happen all at once. The moans. Grunting. Gun shots. A scream.

* * *

"_Ari! Come play!" I glanced at the tire swing in my mother's backyard, giggling at the over excited toddler who was attempting to climb onto the swing, but never managed to make it on it. _

"_In a minute baby!"I called to the boy, accepting the glass of sweet tea my mother was holding out to me. Elizabeth Worley, was truly a good woman—she did everything in her power to make sure her kids never did without. Even if it meant she had to. So, even though I was a senior in high school, I still enjoyed the time I was able to spend with this God sent woman. _

"_Have you talked to your sister lately?" I sighed, setting my tea down on the patio table that sat between us. I knew it was coming. It always did. _

"_She called a few days ago. Asked how Cole was doing. Asked how you and Daddy were. She's safe, Mama. She's ok for now." I watched as my mother let out a breath that I hadn't realized she had been holding. _

_My sister was a mess, to put it lightly. A different man every other week, in and out of the house, almost always drunk...it was more than my Mama could handle. She didn't even bother to call my mother anymore; just called me because she knew I didn't really care what she was doing. _

"_I just wish she would come home." My mama looked off for a moment, obviously blinking back tears before snapping her head back at me, a smile on her face. "Tell me about school. How is everything?"_

_I started to tell her all about my senior year, about graduation coming up, the senior trip to Florida that I planned on taking with my friends, and any other insignificant thing in my life. _

_I had no idea that none of that would matter in a few short years._

* * *

"The hell are you doing girl? Help us!" I heard Daryl's muffled voice, drawing me out of my own mind. Right. Surrounded by zombies. Wanting to eat our brains and shit. Check.

I immediately tried to locate Andrea and Glenn, breathing easier when I saw both of my favorite people, their guns raised and picking off the monsters one by one.

I looked down at the weapon in my hand, unsure of what to do. I didn't have the slightest clue on how to work it. Sure, I had watched people with guns in movies, and my own daddy was a hunter. But I had never shot one. I fumbled a bit, looking for a safety of some kind, grinning in triumph when I finally found it and safely turned off the safety. Glancing back up, I noticed that the herd that we were confronted with wasn't that large—a dozen or so. And obviously, judging by the several undead bodies on the ground, the group could easily handle it. That must mean more were coming.

I didn't noticed that I wasn't moving until I felt a strong hand wrap itself around my neck. A moan in my ear. The smell of death overwhelming. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Furiously, I latched onto the hand, desperately attempting to loosen it's grip. It was a futile attempt. At that point, I was almost gagging at the smell, unable to gather enough oxygen to grab my gun and shoot the damn thing. _Come on Ari, get this bastard off of you!_ I jerked forward hard, while shoving the creature back with one arm, managing to make it release it's grip on my throat. Coughing, I quickly shoved it backwards, farther away from me. The monster groaned in protest, reaching out again with it's decaying heads. Without any warning, it dropped, an arrow sticking out of the front of the zombie's skull. Not giving myself time to think about it, I raised my gun at another incoming walker.

Unfortunately, no matter how many times I shot at it, I couldn't hit the target. The recoil of the pistol was making my wrist incredibly sore, but I remained with it held up, still attempting to bring the damn thing down. I clicked the trigger again, but nothing came out. Of course I would waste all of my bullets without a single one hitting the fucking target.

I glanced around, noticing quickly that almost every body left standing was alive. Andrea had three in front of her, but was easily taking down each one with a single shot. A few others were strayed around, still groaning and coming towards the presumed food, no matter how many dead bodies they were tripping over.

Then, a scream.

The zombie I had previously been attempting to hit was now on the ground, fresh, red blood covering it's hands that were now digging into it's new prey's stomach.

* * *

In what seemed to have been hours, but realistically had been about 5 minutes, the group had all gathered around the vehicles. I leaned against the truck beside Andrea, who was still wiping tears from her eyes.

"We don't have time to bury him," Rick started, eyeing each of us slowly. "The gunshots probably attracted every walker in the damn state; we gotta move. Finish loadin' up and we'll start headin' towards the highway." Everyone nodded in agreement, fanning out to grab any of the supplies that had been missed. Already having packed all of my things, I quickly joined Andrea, who was still too visible upset to manage much. I easily grabbed her bags, watching her nod at a Cherokee. I quickly took her things to it, where Carol was busy loading things into it. The sweet woman turned to me quickly, anger coating her usually gentle eyes.

"Why the hell didn't you kill it?" She snapped at me, snatching the bags from my hands. In momentary shock, I went silent at her question. There was no doubt that his death had been partially my fault. I didn't kill it. I couldn't. Since it had happened, everyone had been staring at me as if I were some kind of criminal—like I was no better than one of those _things_.

"I...I couldn't." I gasped out, suddenly finding it harder to breath easily. She returned my questioning gaze with an icy one, breaking contact only to throw the things into the back of the vehicle.

"You could have stabbed it. Kicked it. Anything. But you just stood there." She accused again, her back still turned to me. Without waiting for my reply, she stalked off in the direction of Rick, who was now signaling for everyone to start loading up. I glanced around uncomfortably. There was no doubt in my mind that the group that I had just began to like hated my guts. I had gotten one of theirs killed. It was my fault. If I were them, I would have just left me behind.

"Come on girl, yur' with me." The gruff voice that I had slowly come familiar with spoke from behind me, making me turn to him with a questioning look. Daryl was already halfway back to his bike with his back turned to me. "Come on, we ain't got all day."

I didn't have to be told twice. I quickly hurried after him, not even questioning his choice for transportation. I climbed onto the back quickly, ignoring the small pain that shot through my still healing side.

"Ya didn't answer her question."

"What?" It came out low and cracked; hell, even my voice had given up on me.

"Carol. Why didn't ya do nothin'?"

I sighed, settling my hands on the back straps of his jacket, not being sure where else to put them. Everyone else was now starting to pull off—everyone except for T-Dog, who still lay underneath a small amount of walkers, his screaming finally silent.

"I've never killed one of them before."


End file.
